


Moya Lyubimaya Printsessa (My Favorite Princess)

by sweetNsimple



Series: Tvoye Foto (Your Photo) [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, But He Definitely Commits Violence And Also Murder, Clothed Sex, Consensual Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Pictures, Dom/sub Play, Dubious Morality, Established Relationship, Feminization, Gendered Terms, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Makeup, Nikolai Commits Violence, Nipple Clamps, Not Against Carlos, Photo Shoots, Photography, Photovoyeurism, Praise Kink, Pre-Raccoon City, Pre-Resident Evil 3 Remake, Questionable Jewelry Acquisition, Rimming, Stiletto Heels, consensual feminization, princess kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28786605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: Nikolai managed to acquire an expensive piece of jewelry through questionable means. It was going to look beautiful on his krasivaya printsessa - his beautiful princess.
Relationships: Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev/Carlos Oliveira
Series: Tvoye Foto (Your Photo) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122689
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	Moya Lyubimaya Printsessa (My Favorite Princess)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Click](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16316573) by [Crockzilla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crockzilla/pseuds/Crockzilla). 
  * Inspired by [Three Extremes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28663077) by [AnotherAnon0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherAnon0/pseuds/AnotherAnon0). 
  * Inspired by [Torture](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2448146) by [Old Works (HarveyDangerfield)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarveyDangerfield/pseuds/Old%20Works), [swimsalot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot). 



Undoubtedly, the leading reason for Umbrella’s success was Lord Spencer’s cutthroat business savvy, followed by his goals of serving both the medical and military fields and securing lucrative contracts through both. However, occasionally, Lord Spencer managed to catch himself a filthy rich benefactor, baiting them with lies of power, glory, or other treasures. Sometimes, these benefactors eventually wanted to leave Umbrella and funnel their unending wealth into some other scheme that felt… safer than Umbrella. When these benefactors tried to leave, Lord Spencer would request that a mediator be sent in to rationally discuss with the benefactor how it would be a poor decision to leave the corporation.

Colonel Sergei Vladimir decided that Nikolai would take care of this runaway and the sergeant could do nothing but scowl and mutter darkly under his breath as he packed up to leave for three days. He was on his way to Moscow, the city he had been raised in. Sergei knew he fucking hated Moscow, that rotten bastard. Even worse, he was leaving before the sun was even rising to get on his private jet in time. It was a _private jet_ , there was no reason why it should be taking off at 0300 hours.

He threw another longing look at the body on his bed. The young man was laying on his belly, fleece blankets slipping off the side of the mattress and leaving him bare. His arms were wrapped around the pillow under his head and his wild mop of dark chocolate curls were splayed over the white pillow cover. The man would not have to wake up for another two hours at least.

Nikolai approached quietly and put a knee on the bed on the other side of the man’s thighs, his other boot planted on the ground. The man below him rumbled as the mattress shifted, eyes hazily slitting open.

“Mm?”

“Hold yourself open for me,” Nikolai murmured. “Just taking one for the road.”

“Hmm…” Sleepily, the young man reached behind him and pulled his buttocks apart. His well-used ass was a mess from the night before, still loose and wet with crusted seed marring his honey tan skin. “Itchy,” the body complained on a sigh.

“Hush, _solntse_.” _Sun_. “Hold still.” He leaned over the body to pick up his camera from the bedside table. He closed in on that holy sight of debauchery, taking a photo quickly. His mood lightened just somewhat, knowing that he would carry this picture in his vest right next to his heart. After a pause, he also took a photo of the young man’s sleep-sweet expression, the dark scruff across his cheeks and down his neck, those untamable deep brown – almost black – curls.

“Mmmgood?”

“Yes,” Nikolai said. His camera instantly developed film, so he already had his two photos in hand by the time he got up off the bed. His lover let go of his buttocks and curled his arms under his body.

“Cold…” the young man whined, already mostly asleep again.

Nikolai picked up the blanket and tucked it around his lover.

The photos developed, one of his lover’s face and one of his ass – undeniably fantastic attributes of his – and he tucked them into his vest pocket right next to his heart. Nikolai grabbed his duffel bag and trudged out of his apartment, still in a mostly sour mood except for the two good reasons he had to be happy pressed against his chest.

~:~

The benefactor, Boris Godunuv, was underwhelming in every sense of the word. Not necessarily horrendous to look at, he was unbearably common to the point where some physical flaw would have been welcomed to distinguish him from the millions of other men in the world who looked just like him. He had inherited his wealth from his parents and then built on it with investments in corporations like Umbrella. However, in the past two years, his assets had begun to lose value. The unending wealth he had known now had an upper limit. Godunuv acted preemptively and began to roll back on his spending, counting out every ruble and scrutinizing all of his investments to find which ones were doing him well and which ones weren’t.

He had apparently decided that Umbrella was not worth his fortune – of which a vast portion still existed, making his premeditated thrifting seem radical to the social groups he flitted through – and was cutting ties.

Well.

“That is a bad idea,” Nikolai told him. He was sitting backward in a chair he had nabbed from the dining room table, some expensive mahogany set that likely cost more than an entire house. He had his arms folded on the back, belly and chest pressed to richly embroidered cushions. He rocked forward so that two legs were on the ground, two in the air, and he listened to Godunuv whimper as the mahogany leg shattered the tiny bones in his hand.

“F-fuck you!” Godunuv wailed.

Nikolai bobbled his head in consideration. “Mm. No. I can, however, make you fuck yourself if you’d like.” He leaned back in the chair just enough to pull free his combat knife. He waved it through the air where the weeping man could see it. “Would you like that? I can cut off whatever little prick you have and make you ride it. Is that what you’re into?”

“Please! Please, don’t! I’m begging you! I-I’ll do anything, please, j-j-just go!”

“You _say_ that.” Nikolai scratched the tip of his knife against his temple. He paused and then pointed his blade at Godunuv. “But do you _mean_ it? Lord Spencer does not like killing his cash cows. Everyone else is fair game.” He rocked forward on his chair and Godunuv screamed. “You, though? You’re precious to him. As long as you live, you pay. When you no longer want to live, you stop paying.”

“I’ll pay, I’ll pay, I’ll pay, _please_!” The man’s face was covered in snot and tears. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His one leg was bent at an odd angle, as if he had perhaps tripped down the stairs, causing all his injuries. Or, just as likely, Nikolai had taken a baton to Godunuv’s knee.

He was frustrated and he sincerely hated Moscow. He might have gotten a little carried away, but at least he was getting results.

“Boris?” called a soft, feminine voice. And then a gasp. A louder, more high-pitched, “ _Boris_!”

“Anasta-a-a-sia!” Godunuv wept. “Help me!”

Nikolai turned his head and his eyes were instantly captured. He felt a need so strong that he knew he wasn’t leaving without taking what he wanted.

“Boris!” the woman, Anastasia, screamed again. She was a tall, thin woman, wearing an expensive gown and her hair up in an impeccable style. Anastasia Godunuv had been at a party with other elites, a party Nikolai had been assured of that would hold her attention for most of the night. He had no idea why she had returned home early. He was glad she had, though.

“On top of paying back what you owe Lord Spencer,” Nikolai added, dragging his eyes back to Godunuv. “There is something else that I want personally.”

The man’s eyes darted between him and his wife. “D-do you want h-her? You can h-ha-ve her! Do wh-whatever you w-want!”

“ _Boris_!” Her voice was filled with horror and betrayal.

Nikolai scowled. Did this woman know any other word?

“You useless _pig_!” she spat, as if she had read his mind and decided to impress him. Her hands flew to the front of her gown and gripped tight to the fabric over her breasts as if she thought Nikolai was simply going to rip the entire thing off. “You impotent little bitch!” She screamed at her cowardly husband.

“Relax,” Nikolai drawled, holding out a hand to her, palm down, in a motion to ‘calm down’. “I don’t want your body. I want that.” He pointed at the necklace around her long, slender throat. “Does it adjust or is it always that tight?”

“It… This…” Her long, dainty fingers danced to touch the choker. It was wide and made of interlocking circles of precious gems. “This is a replica of Empress Alexandra Feodorovna’s choker! Made of _real_ diamonds and pearls.”

“Okay,” Nikolai said. “Even better. I want that and what Lord Spencer is owed and then we can all go our own merry little ways.”

“Th-th-that’s worth a fortune!” Godunuv wailed. “Wouldn’t you rather have her? Please, you c-can have her, just d-don’t take the n-necklace.”

“You _shitass_ ,” she snarled. “May a dick grow on your forehead!” She went back to clutching her bosom protectively.

“I’m really not interested,” Nikolai answered dryly. “Tell you what, _Madam_ ,” he offered. “Who inherits his wealth if he dies?”

“Y-y-you can’t kill me! You n-need me! You said so.”

“I said Lord Spencer needs someone to pay. It doesn’t have to be you.” He waited expectantly for her answer.

“Me,” she said. “I take control of the finances until our son is eighteen, at which point he inherits everything.” The look she gave her husband was full of hatred.

“You can’t tell me you want this man to raise your child,” Nikolai cajoled. “Then you’ll be a slave to your son as well as your husband. You give me the necklace? I make a dick grow on his forehead. You uphold your monetary contributions to Umbrella and you get to raise your son in peace. Do we have a deal?” He held out his hand for her to shake.

“Don’t do it!” Godunuv snapped. “You useless whore, don’t you dare!”

Anastasia only took a moment to consider the offer. Her hands went to the choker, ready to tear it off.

“Ah ah ah…” Nikolai waggled his finger at her. “Don’t break it. I want it just as it is.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but obeyed. Her husband – soon to be dearly departed – screamed and sobbed and tried to wiggle away from Nikolai. She let the choker trickle into his hand, diamonds reflecting light and pearls glistening.

With her shoulders thrown back and chin up high, Anastasia spun on her heel and left the room. “As a widow,” she said as she left. “I vow to continue to contribute monetarily to Umbrella until the time my son is 18, at which point he will decide whether or not to uphold our agreement.”

Nikolai smirked. “That’s all we can ask for,” he purred. He carefully put the choker in the same vest pocket as the pictures of his lover.

“I have been well paid to put a dick on your forehead,” Nikolai told the helplessly groaning and keening man. “Goodbye, Godunuv. It wasn’t a pleasure knowing you.”

~::~

Three days after he had left, he was returning to his apartment in the U.B.C.S. Barracks on Rockfort Island. Given his rank and duties, he had private chambers separate from the dorms the mercenaries shared, though not as grand as Mikhail’s rooms as the man was captain. Sergei had a suite to himself that made a 5-star hotel look cheap.

Nonetheless, Nikolai’s rooms were not unfavorable, at least to him. The studio setup meant he had a kitchenette as soon as he entered the front door that opened into a large dining/living room. There was an incomplete wall on his right as he entered the door, on the other side of which there was the door to his bathroom and where he had placed his bed in the furthest right corner of his apartment. The apartment had more space than he needed, and yet the entire studio would have been able to fit inside of Boris Godunuv’s living room.

What did a man need with so much space? Why did any man need to broadcast his wealth so loudly? Nikolai had amassed for himself over time a livable savings account – or several – and was known to be willing to take on any job that paid well. Godunuv’s lavish spending infuriated him. If money got too tight for Anastasia and his son, at least, they could sell that ridiculously large mansion and settle somewhere more fitting of two people. Why have a fortune and then spend it on useless things?

Nikolai pulled the choker out of his vest pocket.

This, for instance, was a useless thing. He never would have spent money on such a gift. He twirled it around, studying the latch and finding that it was, to some extent, adjustable. He made the choker as loose as possible.

Then again, Nikolai reconsidered, he had just dismembered and murdered a man for this piece of jewelry. He found it was his preferred method of currency, the cost of human life.

He was going to have to explain to Lord Spencer soon that killing Boris had been necessary and his wife had been much more willing to work with Umbrella. Nikolai was good with words and so was not concerned with this future conversation. He would receive his stipend for a job well done and that money would disappear into his several savings accounts, untouched to accrue interest.

He dumped his duffel bag in the living room to deal with later, placed the choker on his coffee table, and then ambled toward the body that was watching him blearily from his bed.

It was Sunday morning, 0400 hours, and his lover was blinking dreamily at him.

“W’come back,” Carlos Oliveira burred. “Good time?” His eyes were slipping shut, falling asleep. He had likely only woken up long enough to ascertain that it was Nikolai in the apartment and not an intruder, years of Guerilla training keeping him sharp. Once realizing it was Nikolai, he had softened with drowsiness and was drifting away.

“Awful time,” Nikolai said. He gently shook his lover’s shoulder until the young man growled and slitted his warm brown eyes open to glare at him. “A terrible time.”

“Mmmkay?”

“ _Moya lyubimaya printsessa_ should cheer me up.”

Now his lover groaned and turned his head toward the wall. “Nooooo. This is the one day a week I get to sleep in, asshole. God rested on the seventh day and so will I. I don’t _wanna_ play right now.”

“ _Pozhaluysta?_ ” _Please?_ “ _Moya lyubimaya printsessa?_ ” _My favorite princess?_

Nikolai knew Carlos had a weakness for his Russian, especially when he let his voice drop low and hungry. As he predicted, a shudder travelled down Carlos’s spine.

His lover scraped his face across the pillow to scrutinize Nikolai with one tired eye. At last, he sighed and pushed himself up onto his palms, cracking his back and shoulders. “ _Si, papi._ ” _Yes, daddy._

Carlos pushed himself into a sitting position, feet on the ground, and extended his arms high above his head as he stretched. The blankets slipped off his lap, revealing him to be naked as he generally preferred to sleep in the safety of Nikolai’s apartment.

Nikolai leered. “I have a gift for you,” he purred.

“Mmm… What is it?” His _milaya printsessa – pretty princess_ – asked on a yawn. Big brown eyes blinked at Nikolai curiously. “What is it, _papi_?”

“Ah ah ah…” Nikolai waggled a finger. “ _Moya milaya printsessa_ has to get dressed first.”

His _printsessa_ pouted. “ _Pero_ , _papi_ …” _But, daddy…_

Nikolai gave him a warning look and his _printsessa_ quieted with a severe frown. “First, go clean up.”

His _printsessa_ got up in a huff as he chose to obey. He closed himself in the bathroom and Nikolai went over to his dresser, which was near his bed, and began pulling out what he wanted his _milaya printsessa_ to wear.

That out of the way, he retrieved the choker and held it at the small of his back, standing at parade rest as he listened to his _printsessa_ clean up and pretty himself.

Minutes later, the door opened. His _printsessa_ was still naked except for some makeup he had applied. His lips were blood red and his eyes shadowed with pale gold. His cheekbones and the bridge of his nose shimmered with highlighter. He saw the items Nikolai had laid out on the bed and his tongue dragged over his bottom lip.

He acted as if Nikolai was not there watching him as he slipped on his stretched mesh and lace embroidered forest green garter belt, securing it over his belly button. With that in place, he slowly dragged matching open-back cage bikini panties up his legs and tugged them into place. He turned around, back to Nikolai, and adjusted the itty bitty scraps of lace into place so that they framed the round globes of his ass lusciously.

Nikolai adjusted himself crudely in his cargo pants, otherwise making no move to initiate contact. He enjoyed watching his _printsessa_ flaunt for him. He put his hand behind himself again, watching with sharp, pale eyes.

Next came the lace top thigh high stockings. His _printsessa_ was admittedly hairy, with a dark happy trail, a furred chest, and his scruffy face… At Nikolai’s request, however, his _printsessa_ had gotten into the habit of shaving his legs and waxing his buttocks. It was a delight to watch lace fishnets slide smoothly up glowing tan flesh without a single hitch, something that made Nikolai rumble in his chest and his _printsessa_ blush. There was no fuzz to obstruct the view of his gorgeous ass and Nikolai knew that his _printsessa’s_ skin was so very sensitive with no hair.

The little straps on his garter belt were secured to his thigh highs. With that done, his _printsessa_ slipped into his favorite stiletto high heel pumps. Those had been a learning curve for his _printsessa_ and had almost twice led to injury, but the trials had been so very worth it for the tribulation of watching his _milaya printsessa_ strut. Those heels also shaped his muscular calves and thighs like a dirty daydream.

The last item were nipple clamps with an attachable chain. Nikolai had hesitated over this item as the sterling silver, though it went well with the dark green lingerie and black pumps, would not go well with the choker _and_ the lingerie and black pumps. In the end, he had reminded himself that he was not a fashion designer and he didn’t care. He wanted nipple clamps on his _printsessa_ , one with a chain that he could hold and pull, and he wanted the pumps that made his _printsessa_ saunter like a stripper, and he damn well wanted the dark green lingerie that looked so good against his _printsessa’s_ glowing honey complexion and had an open cage in the back so that he could just slip inside without removing a single scrap of fabric. No one was here to see except himself, so what did it matter if the sterling silver clashed with the pearls and diamonds and dark fabrics?

He licked his teeth as his _printsessa_ turned around once more, showing off as he thrust his chest forward and teased his rosy brown nipples with the clamps, letting out little sighs as he oh-so slowly let the clamps bite down on those precious buds.

Facing forward, Nikolai could now see that his _printsessa_ was already half-hard, getting his pretty panties wet and distorting the fabric.

His _printsessa_ let his hands wander up from his tortured nipples and through his mop of brown curls, posing just for Nikolai. “Do I look good, _papi_?” he asked, his gaze heavy lidded.

Nikolai nodded. “You look _very_ good, _moya lyubimaya printsessa_.”

“Do I make you happy?”

“Very much so.”

“Does that mean I can have my present now?”

“Spoiled,” Nikolai drawled. His _printsessa_ grinned unrepentantly.

He pulled the necklace in front of him, holding it between his two hands to best display the diamonds and pearls and interlocking circular design.

His _printsessa’s_ eyes bulged from his face. “ _¡Mierda, Nikolai!_ How much did that cost?”

Nikolai tutted, shaking his head in reprimand. Dark humor sparkled in his eyes.

His _printsessa_ had to visibly tame himself. He cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s very pretty. Is it for me, _papi_?”

“Of course it is,” Nikolai purred.

“ _Gracias, papi_.”

Yes, that was what Nikolai liked to hear. “Let me put it on you.”

“ _Si, papi_.” His _printsessa_ had a difficult time taking his eyes off the choker. He did turn around and tilt his chin forward, hands behind his head to keep his short curls off the back of his neck. Nikolai secured the latch in place, feeling something victorious and dark slither through his belly as it fit perfectly. He could almost believe in fate.

He trailed his mouth down his _printsessa’s_ spine, hands smoothing over his broad shoulder blades. He sauntered a half circle around to stand in front of the other and study the effect. “Beautiful,” he rumbled. “ _Krasivaya printsessa._ ” _A beautiful princess_.

The interlocking circles of pearls glistened in the low glow of his kitchen light around the wall from them, milky and wet-looking and making him think of his cum on honey tan skin. The diamonds glittered, not unlike snow touched by rays of the moon or tears. Against his _printsessa’s_ flesh, the creamy pearls and dazzling diamonds were ethereal. Glittering, glistening, and pale, the choker was so wide that it touched the base of his _printsessa’s_ neck and ended just under his jaw.

Nikolai licked his bottom lip. That choker looked an awful lot like a collar, as if not just a sign of royalty but of _possession_.

“ _Ty moya krasivaya printsessa?_ ” he growled. He repeated in English. “Are you my beautiful princess?”

“ _¡Si, papi_!” He answered instantly, voice high and breathy. “I’m your beautiful princess.”

“Let me take some pictures of you looking beautiful for me. Get on the bed.”

He picked up his camera from the bedside table and watched his _printsessa_ crawl back onto the mattress. He settled on his back, head turned just so to display his new treasure. He had one hand on the chain of his nipple clamps, tugging on it so that his nipples were stretched and bruised. One pump was placed on the bed by his opposite knee, the other leg stretched out.

This was not his _printsessa’s_ first time posing for him. He knew what Nikolai liked to see.

Pleased and aroused, Nikolai began to snap photos, pulling the pictures free as they developed and setting them aside.

“Look at me, _moya printsessa_. Do you want me? Do you want my cock? Look at me like you want my cock.”

“ _Quiero tu pene_ ,” his _printsessa_ moaned instantly. _I want your penis_. He opened his long, pretty legs and his red mouth gaped open, tongue touching his upper lip. Nikolai’s horny _printsessa_ was the epitome of an invitation.

“Do you?” Nikolai teased. Admittedly, his Spanish was not the best. However, given who his lover was and the hot shocks of pleasure that went through him every time his _printsessa_ talked to him like this, he had learned a few phrases. His favorite phrases.

“ _¡Si!_ ”

Nikolai reached into the bedside table and pulled out lubricant. It had been Carlos, one random day, who had said they should try flavored lube of all ludicrous products. Little had Nikolai known how quickly he would become addicted to the combined scent of sex, male musk, and artificial cherry. He tossed the almost empty bottle on the bed by his _printsessa’s_ hand. “Show me,” he demanded.

His _printsessa_ rolled onto his hands and knees. Sitting up for a moment, he uncapped the lube and squirted it over three fingers.

With Nikolai watching, camera at the ready, his _printsessa_ licked his drenched digits like a lollipop and Nikolai instantly took another photo, his arousal burning in his gut. His _printsessa_ smirked, cheeky creature, and then fell forward. Balanced on his knees and one hand, the other reached over his back and into the open cage of his panties, wetting the crack between his buttocks. He spread his knees further apart, heels pushing at the blankets, and sighed as he pushed one finger deep inside of himself.

Nikolai came up to the bed, one knee by his _printsessa’s_ heel, and took another photo of that pretty, rosy brown hole getting stuffed, first by one finger, then by two, and at last by three. This near, he became intoxicated by the scent of sex and cherry and his erection was pushing painfully against his cargo pants.

“Mmmm, _papi_ … do you wanna taste?” His fingers pulled out and he used them to keep his cheeks spread, his pretty hole winking and leaking centimeters from Nikolai’s face.

Nikolai put the camera and photos aside and cupped those perfect globes in his hands. His tongue lolled over and around the sphincter, tasting his _printsessa’s_ fingers, his musk, and the cherry lube. He thrust his tongue inside, slurping and slobbering as he pushed his tongue as deep as he could go. His _printsessa_ groaned, rutting back into his face. Nikolai’s nose was getting crushed against the crack of his _printsessa’s_ buttocks and, well… what a way to go. Suffocated by such a perfect ass.

His chin was wet with lube and his spit and he dragged his _printsessa_ even closer by his hips.

“Y-your gloves?”

“They stay,” Nikolai growled. He had yet to take off any of his own clothing, including his tactical vest and fingerless gloves, his combat boots or knee pads.

His erection somehow got harder as he realized that he looked like the mercenary he was, some military brute. Meanwhile, his _printsessa_ was lace and mesh on heels, decorated in jewelry befitting an empress.

Nikolai growled low in his throat and it vibrated against his _printsessa’s_ pretty hole, making his entire body shake.

He reared away from his _printsessa_ , bringing his other leg up onto the bed. He used his knees to spread his _printsessa_ ’s legs wider, his combat boots on the inside of stiletto pumps, dirty cargo pants sliding against fishnet stockings.

“ _Blyad'_.” _Fuck_. He wiped at his mouth and chin with the back of his forearm, the other jerking at his belt buckle.

His _printsessa_ put both hands on the bed, head turned to look over his shoulder. Those painted eyes were hungry. “Is that for me, _papi_?” he asked, eyes glancing down to Nikolai’s lap and up. “Is that all for me?”

“You know it, _printsessa_ ,” he rumbled. He forced his pants open and his cock sprung out. He was so excited that his dick was wet with pre-cum and pulsing as he grabbed it in his glove. “What do you say when I give you good things?”

“Mmmm, _gracias, papi_.” He rolled his hips back toward Nikolai. Nikolai felt a stiletto poke him in the buttock, urging him to move faster.

Cackling, Nikolai sheathed his cockhead in a wet, hot ass. His _printsessa_ went rigid as if hit with an electric current, his head lolling down. Nikolai rolled his hips in tight, short circles, forcing precious more centimeters into his _printsessa_. His black leather gloves on his _printsessa’s_ waist, over that green lace garter belt, held his animal attention. His cargo pants were pushing against the open-back cage of his _printsessa’s_ lace panties, his belt clacking and clicking where it was jostled against his _printsessa’s_ thigh. Seeing his own vest-covered torso as he looked down compared to the vast expanse of honey brown flesh in front of him made him feel… bestial, practically villainous, like he had kidnapped his _printsessa_ from his virginal bed and was now fucking the innocence out of him.

He shoved his cock down to the root and his _printsessa_ cried out, gasping for breath.

“ _¡Más, papi!_ ” _More, daddy!_

Nikolai hooked one rough hand under a clean-shaven thigh, an itty bitty green strap holding stocking to garter belt. He hoisted it up toward his own waist, using his bruising grip to leverage his _printsessa_ back onto his dick as he rammed forward over and over again like a machine.

“ _¡Aaah_! So rough, _p-p-papi_!”

He knew he was being rough. He wasn’t being nice at all to his _printsessa_ , was he? No, he was screwing his _printsessa_ like he was a dirty little slut because what he wanted suddenly, more than anything else, was to wreck his _lyubimaya printsessa,_ his _favorite princess_. He felt like the Silver Wolf he had been called in _Spetsnaz_ and his _printsessa_ looked so sweet and innocent and seductive in his stiletto pumps, lace lingerie, and choker.

“Do you… like it… when I get… _rough_?” he snarled. The bed was scraping against the floor, smacking against the wall. Little _ngh, ngh, naa, naa, nuh, uh_ noises were being punched out of his _printsessa_ with every thrust. He didn’t even realize at first that he was smirking, teeth bared like he was about to strike.

“ _¡Me encanta!_ ” _I love it!_ “ _¡Me encanta, papi!_ ”

He was hypersensitive of the tight heat around his penis, his pants still high around his thighs, the distant metallic singing of his _printsessa’s_ nipple clamp chain. _Fuck_ , his _printsessa’s_ nipple clamp chain.

He felt driven to ruin this pretty creature.

Nikolai pulled out, cock dripping, his _printsessa’s_ raw hole leaking, and sat back. His _printsessa_ whimpered, confused and horny, but he was in the middle of rearranging them. The leg he had in his hand, he now folded toward his _printsessa_ and then rotated so that it was on Nikolai’s other side, twisting his _printsesssa_ ’s lower body. His _printsessa_ fell gracelessly onto his back, panting for breath.

Nikolai used his other hand to grab the leg now closer to him and pull it around him, situating himself once more between his _printsessa’s_ shaking thighs.

His _printsessa’s_ makeup was smeared, crimson red lipstick across his cheek and in the scruff of his facial hair. His brown eyes were hazy with pleasure, his chest blushing and heaving, his rosy brown buds swollen and dark within the clamps. His garter belt had gotten misarranged, the front of his lace panties soaked with his pre-cum and vacuum-sealed around most of his cock, the top few centimeters of head of which had escaped the lace and was straining toward his garter belt. The knee of one stocking had torn, delicate fabric rubbed too hard against their fleece blankets. His pearl and diamond choker had even become askew, no longer situated perfectly but with the clasp sitting over his gullet.

His _printsessa_ also took a moment to look down at himself. With those brown eyes no longer watching him, Nikolai realized that he had begun jerking off to the ruined, disgraced image his _printsessa_ made. Royalty that had been fallen into the crude, filthy hands of a common man. Slowly, teasingly, he reached out to curl a single finger around the clamp chain.

Those brown eyes darted back to his. His _printsessa_ pulled one of his knees toward his belly and planted a stiletto pump on Nikolai’s chest, holding him back.

Nikolai chuckled, hand coming off his dick to land on his _printsessa’s_ ankle. His _printsessa_ smirked back at him.

“Why’d you stop, _papi_?” he slurred. He pushed with his high heel and Nikolai almost fell backward. “It felt so good when you were fuckin’ me.”

Nikolai tried to push back but his _printsessa_ had strong legs and the pump was close to toppling him off the foot of the bed. “You’re being a brat.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, _papi_.”

He snarled and firmed his grip on his _printsessa’s_ ankle. He jerked upward and the heel tore at his vest, coming free of his chest. He paused for only a second to press a kiss to that black pump before he pulled his _printsessa’s_ stocking-covered leg over his shoulder. His _printsessa_ immediately brought up his other leg and Nikolai was quick to tug it over his other shoulder before it could find purchase on his chest.

Powerful calves squeezed around his neck and he kissed one knee and then the other, lace against his lips. “ _Bud' khoroshim, moya lyubimaya printsessa._ ” _Be good, my favorite princess._

His _printsessa_ conceded defeat with a hum, relaxing into the bed. His hands came up and then clutched the pillow beneath his head.

Nikolai smiled. “Very good,” he praised. “Look at you…” He finally got to curl one finger under around chain and pull. His _printsessa’s_ chest arched off the bed, trying to lessen the pleasure and pain as his nipples were squeezed mercilessly. Brown eyes slipped shut, pupils rolling back. “You look like you let a bad man do filthy things to you, _printsessa_.”

His _printsessa’s_ eyes snapped open, looking at him with need and confusion. “That… that was you, _papi_.” His tongue dragged over his ruined red lipstick. “You did this to me.”

“So it was. So I did.” he purred. He yanked and his _printsessa_ wailed at the intense pressure as his nipples were tortured and stretched. “You are delicious like this.” His other hand dropped roughly to grope at his _printsessa’s_ pretty cock. The sensation of wet lace suctioned to hot and hard flesh was pornographic in and of itself. His _printsessa_ keened, struggling between the two sensations of his sore and aching chest and his throbbing penis held in green lace and the black leather of Nikolai’s fingerless glove.

Nikolai moved his hand from his _printsessa’s_ chain to between his legs. Gaze heavy-lidded, he pushed his cock back inside of his _printsessa_ and listened to him _howl_ as he was filled suddenly and without warning. Nikolai jackhammered his hips forward, feeling his _printsessa’s_ legs quiver against his entire torso. He watched that sterling silver chain jangle and dance all over a honey tan chest, witnessed pearls and diamonds glisten and twinkle with every thrust as the light caught them differently. He rubbed his _printsessa’s_ cockhead and observed hungrily as the body beneath his seized in euphoria.

His _printsessa_ screamed. “ _¡Gracias, papi!_ Oh, _gracias, gracias, gracias… Te quiero, papi, si, si si…_ ” The pretty, filthy body beneath him went limp.

Nikolai had to hold his _printsessa’s_ legs where they were or they would have slipped right off his shoulders. He caught them in the crook of his elbows and bent over his _printsessa’s_ body, rutting to his own end. That sterling silver chain had his attention, never staying still. The more the chain danced, the more the clamps twitched around his _printsessa’s_ nipples, and those tortured buds were dark and stretched long, as if his _printsessa_ had been breastfeeding for months.

And that choker…. The more he saw it around his _printsessa’s_ throat, the more he was certain he would have paid actual money for it instead of blood. Actual currency that he held onto with two tightly clenched fists, and he would have made a monetary bid just for how pretty it made his _printsessa_ when Nikolai was fucking him. His _printsessa_ needed more pearls, he thought.

Hands came up and around his shoulder, tugging him down. He practically folded his _printsessa_ in half as he followed that gentle hold, allowing himself to fall forward into a kiss that rubbed red lipstick across his mouth. It tasted of wax and then of toothpaste, his _printsessa’s_ tongue coming out to lap at his chin and his teeth.

His _printsessa_ whimpered and panted beneath him, oversensitive and still being speared relentlessly on Nikolai’s demanding cock.

“I – want – it,” his _printsessa_ gasped against his mouth. “I – want – _papi’s_ – cum!” Nikolai caught just a glance of his _printsessa’s_ all-knowing smirk before those smeared lips pressed against his ear, panting hotly. “I wanna be _papi’s_ dirty little princess.” 

“ _Blyad'!_ ” Nikolai’s eyes slammed shut, his mouth slack in a wide O, as his orgasm was pulled forcibly from the bottom of his belly and dragged out of his dick, overwhelming in its intensity. His hips rabbited through a handful of more thrusts, lube and cum _squelching_ and _squishing_ between them.

His arms shaking, he dropped Carlos’s legs and then slumped over his lover’s chest. He could hear Carlos’s heart thumping wildly against his temple, hear his harried breathing straight from his lungs.

For at least a minute, they rested there. Carlos ran his fingers through Nikolai’s white hair, knees weakly squeezing around the older man’s waist.

“You look…” Carlos began, voice rough and crackling. “Like you let a bad man do filthy things to you… Is that really something… you just said to me?” He then proceeded to _squeak_ , probably having something to do with Nikolai’s cock twitching with interest inside of him. “Goddamn, Nikolai, ya kinky bastard.” Carlos chuckled. “Alright. Alright, noted. It gets ya off when I look like a skank.”

“Not just that,” Nikolai argued, his own voice sounding like it was getting dragged over rocks. “ _I_ made you look like a skank.”

“Hey…”

“You looked innocent. Proper. Wealthy.”

“I’m wearing stiletto high heel pumps and lingerie…”

“Shut up and let me explain.”

Carlos chuffed but at least he stopped interrupting.

Nikolai pushed himself up onto his palms so that he could look down at his lover. “You looked like a real princess, and I’m not the kind of man who is allowed to touch a real princess. You _let_ me put my grubby paws all over your pampered skin and lace intimates. The fantasy was too real. I felt like an actual street rat that had snuck into your bed and fucked the pretty princess.”

Carlos considered him quietly. “Well, there’s your problem.” He jutted his chin forward snobbishly. “I _am_ a real princess and you really _are_ a street rat. Can’t believe it took ya this long to notice.”

Nikolai snorted. Carefully, he separated them. He paused at the sight of his cum leaking out of his lover’s gaping hole. Without looking away, he patted around for his camera until he found it. “Hold your legs for me, _solntse_ ,” he burred.

Carlos groaned even as he obeyed. He hooked his hands under his knees and pulled them toward his chest, idly twirling his heeled feet.

“Put them back down.”

Carlos stretched out his legs with a groan of relief, thighs on either side of Nikolai.

Nikolai had to crawl backward off the bed until he found the angle he liked, the one that let him see just how thoroughly he had single-handedly ruined his lover.

“Feelin’ better, then?” Carlos asked, eyes blinking slowly. His breathing was getting deeper. He kicked his heels off so that they fell off the bed and carefully unclamped his nipples, hissing as they were freed from punishment.

Nikolai knew where this was going.

“No, no, no,” he tutted. “No falling asleep now.”

“But it’s _Sunday_!”

“You’re filthy and the blankets need washed!”

“That’s not my goddamn fault. I was innocent. Proper. Not necessarily wealthy, but not poorly off.”

“Fuck off.”

“And then this street rat snuck into my bed and fucked me like I was a cockslut. Put his _grubby paws_ all over my pampered skin and lace intimates.”

“You’re mocking me and you’re not funny.”

“Oh, I’m not mockin’ ya. I’m just tellin’ ya my favorite parts before I go back to sleep.”

Nikolai rolled his eyes and put the camera on his bedside table.

“I have to change the blankets and you get itchy whenever you fall asleep right after sex,” he reminded his drowsy lover. “I’m not waking up to you complaining about flaky cum and sticky sheets.”

Carlos huffed. “’M tired. ‘M already complanin’. Might as well wait.”

Fair argument.

“Fine.” Nikolai shrugged. He’d slept in worse conditions. “If it will stop your complaining.”

“It won’t,” Carlos groused. He held out his arms and Nikolai easily sank into his lover’s embrace. He wrapped his own arms around Carlos and pulled the younger man close. “MMmm,” Carlos hummed. Seconds later, he was snoring softly under Nikolai’s jaw.

Nikolai carefully unlatched Carlos’s pretty choker so that it wouldn’t break as they tossed and turned. He held it up to study the diamonds and pearls.

Well worth every drop of blood.

**Author's Note:**

> I need anyone reading this to understand that I researched 'Russian royalty jewelry', looking specifically for a necklace befitting a princess by Nikolai's culture. So the choker is real:  
> https://romanovrussia.com/antique/signature-autograph-photograph-empress-alexandra-feodorovna/
> 
> Open-back cage panties are also a real thing. As a matter of fact, every piece of lingerie Carlos - sorry - PRINTSESSA was wearing I looked up in an actual lingerie store. I'm not listing the links because I don't want it to look like I'm selling lingerie, but the descriptions were pretty on point if anyone wants to use those to hunt down some nice lingerie. 
> 
> I wrote almost all of this to Marilyn Manson's 'Personal Jesus'. I'm sorry, I listen to this song and I'm reminded of Nikolai's shit-eating grin.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Soldier and the Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843647) by [AnotherAnon0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherAnon0/pseuds/AnotherAnon0)




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